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Full text of "To The Lighthouse"

THE   WINDOW

pity that they should do ita hand reached out,
took a pear, and spoilt the whole thing. In
sympathy she looked at Rose. She looked at
Rose sitting between Jasper and Prue. How
odd that one's child should do that!

How odd to see them sitting there, in a row,
her children, Jasper, Rose, Prue, Andrew, almost
silent, but with some joke of their own going on,
she guessed, from the twitching at their lips. It
was something quite apart from everything else,
something they were hoarding up to laugh over
in their own room. It was not about their father,
she hoped. No, she thought not. What was
it, she wondered, sadly rather, for it seemed to
her that they would laugh when she was not
there. There was all that hoarded behind those
rather set, still, mask-like faces, for they did
not join in easily; they were like watchers,
surveyors, a little raised or set apart from the
grown-up people. But when she looked at Prue
to-night, she saw that this was not now quite true
of her. She was just beginning, just moving,
just descending. The faintest light was on her
face, as if the glow of Minta opposite, some
excitement, some anticipation of happiness was
reflected in her, as if the sun of the love of men
and women rose over the rim of the table-cloth,
and without knowing what it was she bent

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